


When a deer tries to hunt a cat

by Jadeile



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Action, Blood and Guts, Casual Murder, First Meetings, Gen, Swearing, Talk of cannibalism, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadeile/pseuds/Jadeile
Summary: Alastor was finished with a broadcast and had one last demon left on his hunting ground: his future meal. Or at least that was the plan; the winged cat just didn't seem very cooperative.
Relationships: Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 238





	When a deer tries to hunt a cat

"Stay the fuck away! I will not just roll over and fucking let you kill me, you bastard! I'm warning you!" the winged cat demon growled from behind an upturned table as Alastor approached him, side-stepping bodies on his way there.

What a laugh. This kitty-cat wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last pathetic little sinner who thought they could walk out of his broadcast alive simply by acting intimidating. Sure, he had managed to avoid Alastor's claws and antlers during the actual massacre and was the last straggler left, but that was hardly a feat – someone always had to be the last one, after all.

"That is perfectly dandy with me, my sweet stranger", Alastor said cheerfully while wearing a menacing grin. "I do like my meals with a bit of a kick."

That was the special part about his last kill – whoever survived the longest had the honor of becoming his after-broadcast snack, as they were the freshest. Oftentimes he picked a delicious looking demon to purposefully leave for the last, but sometimes he let fate decide for him. Today had been the latter case, and the lot had favoured this cat. Alastor looked forward to gutting him while he was still alive and pulling out his flavourful organs. Kidneys, liver, and heart were the most satisfactory parts of the entire demon body. He salivated just thinking about it.

But first things first. He had a cat to hunt down.

He stopped a few feet before his prey and cracked his neck in anticipation. One more round for the Radio Demon. His eyes turned into radio dials once again and his form elongated. His antlers were already at their largest, as he hadn't reversed his form completely, knowing he'd still need it. His claws-

Quite suddenly, in the middle of his transformation, he had to leap aside to dodge a chair leg thrown at him. How rude!

The cat demon tossed another piece of wood at him, and this time Alastor noticed that it had been crudely carved into a relatively sharp stake and was hurled at him like a giant dart. That was an interesting tactic. Clearly the cat had been using his hiding time well.

Alastor dodged a few more throws before he could finally finish his transformation properly. He was mildly impressed. Not that it would help the cat, but maybe Alastor would even remember him afterwards thanks to this.

"I see you've got bite to go with your bark, at the very least", Alastor said with a dark chuckle, and used his shadow path to make his way to the other side of the table and avoid more projectile weapons. "Or should I say, your meo-"

Suddenly he was in pain. What was happening?

Alastor looked down and saw that upon becoming solid again he had landed right into a trap. There was an odd, haphazardly built contraption that worked roughly the same way as a bear trap: his foot had landed in the middle of the thing, and sharp blades made out of large wood splinters and pieces of broken glass had jumped up and embedded themselves into his lower calf. Now his right foot was thoroughly messed up and bleeding all over the place.

He heard a whoosh and looked up just in time to see the cat demon leap up into the air and flap his large, bright red wings once, which created a powerful gust of wind that made Alastor's hair billow wildly. The movement propelled the cat up to the ceiling, where his sharp claws swiped at the metal chain that kept the crystal chandelier right above Alastor in its place. The chain broke at the contact like it was made out of dry spaghetti instead of iron links.

Shit.

Alastor transported himself out of the way in the nick of time, and from his new vantage point saw the massive chandelier crash devastatingly on the floor with a loud racket of hundreds of crystals in their metal frame smashing into million pieces and scattering all around the floor. He would have been very dead had he still been standing there.

More alarmingly – surprisingly enough – the cat was nowhere to be seen. Apparently he was fast on those wings, or maybe Alastor had simply not been paying enough attention and had missed a few beats. He had definitely been caught off guard and now found himself on the defensive, so it was entirely possible. That was certainly a rare occurrence.

His ears turned back at the odd sound of something whizzing through the air in his direction, and he made a quick leap to the side to avoid it. Whatever it was still managed to slice through the tip of his ear and cut off a tuft of his fur due to his admittedly sloppy dodge. Also, Alastor's foot gave out when he completely forgot about the injury and landed his full weight on it during his evasive maneuver. Considering where the projectile had hit him, that may have actually been the goal rather than landing a blow on him.

He crashed hard on the floor. It hurt, his leg damned hurt in a non-pleasant way and he had hit his elbow on the floor while trying and failing to keep his balance during his fall. Regardless, he grit his teeth and immediately rolled to the side to avoid the inevitable barrage of attacks that he knew such a position would invite. He wasn't wrong: mostly white, thin objects embedded themselves into the floor in a rapid manner in a line that followed the path of blood he left in his wake. He had to admit that the cat's aim was sure and the throwing speed was impressive – although he would much rather not be making these observations from his current position.

And then one of the weapons embedded itself into his shoulder painfully, which was his warning that his enemy was smart and quick to adapt: he was no longer following Alastor's rolling dumbly, he had already calculated where Alastor would be next and had adjusted his aim accordingly. That was bad news.

Alastor vanished again, this time appearing behind the upturned table where the cat had initially hidden. The floor was a mess of crystal and wood splinters as well as his own blood, and the spot reeked oddly of alcohol, but at least he had some cover and a moment to regain his bearings.

He took a few rapid breaths and wiped his bangs out of his face. His hair was a tangled mess thanks to the earlier gust of wind and his undignified rolling on the filthy floor.

He had severely underestimated the cat. He hadn't expected any kind of a fight, to be honest. And even if he had, his expectation would have been along the lines of the cat attempting to desperately claw at him while he pushed him down and sank his own claws through his furry skin. Certainly not… this. Stakes. A bear trap. A chandelier. Thrown objects.

Speaking of which...

He turned his eyes to the weapon embedded on his shoulder, and quickly ripped it out to observe it. It was a playing card. A really sharp edged and sturdy Queen of Spades. Currently coated in Alastor's blood.

Who was this cat? What was he?

"Just so you know, I know where you are and I could trigger the other trap there right now if I wanted to", the cat's voice said, sounding relatively close but not foolishly so. Alastor stiffened, as little as he liked to acknowledge it. Another trap? "Do you yield? I honestly don't wish to be known as the fucker who killed the Radio Demon. It'd be too much of a fucking hassle to deal with the idiots who'd like to one-up that. God forbid someone dubbing me a fucking Overlord."

An Overlord. The one who killed the Radio Demon. Alastor was seething. This random nobody thought he could kill him?

…Although so far he had been making a very good attempt at it, Alastor had to admit. He was in a tighter spot than he had been in decades, even with his regular fights with Vox. Of course Alastor could still summon his shadow minions or the Eldritch horror to turn the fight around if he had to, but…

_Who was this cat?_

...Maybe he could turn this into a long-term advantage instead?

"You're quite right, my friend!" he said, putting in the effort to not let his pain and exertion be audible in his voice. "There's no need for us to fight. Instead, we could make a deal. How about-"

A flaming playing card flew over his head. It shattered a glass bottle that had been hung from the ceiling and had not only been spared the destruction from the chandelier, but had also gone completely unnoticed by Alastor up until this point. The liquid from the now broken bottle caught fire in an instant and splashed all over the place… and suddenly there was a veritable inferno as the flaming liquid hit the alcohol that had been splashed all over the floor and the table – the smell of which he had foolishly dismissed as unimportant just a moment earlier.

Alastor vanished again, this time behind the bar counter that he thankfully remembered existed, and had to wrestle his coat off to put out the fire that it had caught. He also patted down his hair and ears to make sure he wasn't a second away from burning alive.

That had been way too close. This cat demon was an insanely shrewd tactician, and had used his hiding time very well indeed. Alastor couldn't believe what was happening. Somehow he had become the prey to the cat instead of being the predator after a meal.

"Bitch behind the bar counter", the cat's voice said, and Alastor froze, eyes widening. Not that he was truly surprised, as his struggle with his coat had surely been more than loud enough to reveal his location to someone who sported a pair of cat ears. But he was still shocked at the fact that he hadn't managed to regain his footing at all, including doing something about his still bleeding leg, before being targeted again. It was wild. "No fucking deals. I'm not an idiot. Do you see those bottles of alcohol?"

Alastor did. And he knew instantly what that meant: another inferno was in the cards if the cat so chose. Pun not intended for once.

"It'd be a shame to waste them. Just fucking yield and we can drink some instead of burning them or what the fuck ever. I know your reputation; you're a man of your word. Just say that we're done trying to kill each other, promise it, and I'll take your word for it."

The cat had guts. A drink with someone who had had every intention of killing him and eating him, and not necessarily in that order? That wasn't something Alastor had experienced before. The willingness to bet his life on the notion that Alastor wasn't in the habit of going back on his word, and wouldn't attack him the moment they were seated amicably and his guard was down? It was a reckless, but calculated risk.

The cat was smart and skillful. He was agile and clearly had seen and survived his fair share of battles. He planned his moves and executed his plans flawlessly. He took none of anyone's bullshit, not even someone of Alastor's status.

Alastor had never met anyone like him before. He wanted to keep him, deal or no deal.

Sometimes, pride was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

"I promise to no longer be after your life", Alastor said, and let his full demon form revert back to his regular state of being. His antlers cracked and creaked as the additional prongs shrunk back into the bone, and his calf hurt even worse than before as the muscles in his limbs shortened. Ahh, that would ache come the morning. "I would love a drink with such interesting company as yourself. Do you like whiskey?"

He heard a few flaps of wings, and then a soft noise of paws landing on the wooden floor. Finally there was a sharp tapping sound on the bar counter, and Alastor looked up to see the cat's face peering down at him with one impressive eyebrow raised.

His eyes were orange and piercing.

"I like anything with alcohol in it. Do you need help?"

Alastor found himself with a deep desire to learn everything he could about this fascinating creature. To spend countless evenings in his company, drinking and talking. To understand what made him tick. All of it.

"I can manage. Give me a moment to patch my leg up; you did quite a number on it. Perhaps pour us drinks in the meanwhile?"

The cat huffed in what Alastor tentatively assumed to be amusement. Alastor wished he would smile instead. "Sure. Name is Husk, by the way."

Husk. Husky. Husker. Alastor liked the name.

"Alastor. Pleasure to meet you."

In the end he never got his after-broadcast meal this time. He got something much better.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Fanfic Progress Update tumblr blog: [Jadeile-writes](https://jadeile-writes.tumblr.com/).  
> There you can keep a track of how my on-going stories are progressing, see if something new is in the works, find out the expected posting dates, and see little sneak-peeks into the future chapters of my longer fics. I update the blog every Saturday with fresh info!


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